Cordelia Jackson and the Lightning Thief
by CharlotteMiranda
Summary: Lia Jackson is forced to deal with suspicious things constantly. Her life has always been a series of unanswered questions. Thankfully (or not) this ends now. Because 16-year-old Cia must now beat the odds and reach 19, lest the world perish. But things are always easier said than done, especially when you might be harboring feelings for your fellow quest mate, Luke. Fem!Percy
1. Prologue (?)

_~P R O L O G U E~_

Before I start the story,

Some basic information:

 **name:** Cordelia

 **translation:** _'Daughter of the Sea'_

Basic I know, but whatever for now.)

 **nickname(s)** : Cor _y; Lia_

 **That is all of the necessary info that comes to mind for now.**

 **(: Hope You Like The Story :)**

 _"Percy!"_ I could hear my mom hollering from downstairs.

Something unintelligible fell out of my mouth and I rolled out of bed, hitting the floor with a _thump._ I could hear my moms laughter echoing up the stairs.

I stumbled to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I was met with a pair of lackluster green eyes complimented by dark circles and matted black hair. _Another normal day, I guess._

After a quick shower, I picked up a shirt from some basket in my closet. I don't know what supposed to be in there, honestly. But it smells clean enough and there wasn't a single mark on it. _good enough for me._ I got some jeans from my closet and put on my favorite chucks and that was as good as it was getting on a school morning.

I could hear pancakes sizzling in the kitchen as I jogged downstairs. The smell wafted throughout the entire floor and I inhaled it greedily. Even my current morning grumpiness couldn't smother the fond smile gracing my lips. my mother was the best.

speak of the devil, there she was. standing in the doorway with a warm smile lighting up her features.

My mom is the best person I know. her brown locks curl softly to her shoulders. crows feet at the corner of her eyes only serve to accentuate the laughter and smiles that have filled her life. It seemed as if she didn't know the meaning of the word _frown_ , for she was never seen doing it. She has a tendency to smile through the pain in her life, a trait which I inherited. if there is one thing I seem to exceed in at life, it is humor. I have never struggled to roll a joke, or a quick remark, off the tip of my tongue.

Our moment of peace is ruined, however, because I can see that there is a bruise forming on her face. its light and she probably hasn't had it for long. But it covers her entire left cheek and I've gotten into enough fights to know it was from a fist. I set my jaw so hard I knew it would be sore later today. _Gabe, that no good piece of—_

"Hey, Brain Boy. Got any cash on ya'?" And there he was. _Gabe_ , my insolent, deadbeat of a stepdad, lounging on the couch in a pile of his own filth as he paid for it (He hasn't paid for a thing since he moved in with us).

I could feel my fist clenching as I took a step towards him. I pointed an accusing finger at him, my voice seething, "How _dare_ you lay your grubby hands on her. I will—"

"Percy, " my mom pleaded, " just leave it. Please."

Now, normally I would try to calm down and leave it. For my mom's sake, at least. But today something just snapped. He had always been a leering, manipulative jerk. But he had never put his hands on her. Me, maybe, but I had done whatever I could to prevent him from ever touching her.

And he had broken the unspoken rule, and I wasn't just going to sit back and just observe.

"No!" I barked, " _No._ he doesn't get to get away with _hitting you,_ mom." I flicked my eyes to my mother for a moment. She was still in the doorway, her face shocked. For good reason, too. I try my hardest not to snap at my mom, she has enough problems without worrying about her moody 16-year-old son. I'd have to apologize to her later.

 _But not now._

in three quick steps in was in Gabe's face, trying not to let my eyes water from his pure _stench._ the last thing I needed was him thinking I was _crying._ "If I _ever_ , " I snapped, jabbing him in his chest, "find out you so much as _breath_ on her the wrong way again, you will regret it. Got it?"

You could hear a pin drop. I briefly registered that my mom was still standing, stunned, in the doorway entering the living room.

But I was only focused on Gabe at the moment. it was a stalemate, our eyes glaring holes into each other. after a second or two, he blinked. I fought the juvenile urge to laugh and yell, _".You lose!"._ No. This is serious.

After an eternity, Gave looked away and sat back down on the filthy sofa, muttering something about an afternoon poker game.

I may have won this time, but I wasn't stupid. This would probably hold him off for a month. Maybe two. Gabe never knew when to stop.

I took a deep and turned on my heels. I grabbed my moms hand and slammed the front door behind us. We walked a couple of blocks before my mom blew up at me, spinning me around. I knew she would. she hates it when I confront Gabe like that. Seems to think one day it'll scare him off for good and he'll leave. _Good riddance, then._

"You can't just _do that_ , Percy!" she whispered worriedly, "What if he decides he's had enough and just goes?"

I clenched my jaw and tried to keep my voice down, neighbors were already glancing curiously. "Then. Let. Him." I spat, "You know, I can't believe you just let him push you around like that. he _hit_ you, mom. That's called abuse."

a fire spurred in my mom's eyes, aided by determination, 'i know _exactly_ what its called. I also know that I have my reasons and it's _my_ life, Perseus,"

I hate it when she uses my full name. she knows that.

"Yeah, well," I snapped, "Sometimes you have to do what's best for people because they can't do it for themselves." I should have stopped, but I had been holding this in forever, "Because they _refuse_ to help themselves."

hurt flashed in her eyes and I sighed sadly, running a hand through my already messy hair, "Look, ma, I've got to go. School, you know ?" Not even I was convinced by my half-hearted smile. I swiftly kissed her forehead and muttered a _bye._

a couple blocks later I checked my watch and cursed loudly. class started in 10 minutes.

I sprinted the rest of the way.

 ** _This isn't exactly prologue material. But this is not where the first book started and I had just always thought Percy would have reacted differently to Gabe._**


	2. 1 — A Bedazzled Hair Clip?

~ _1~_

"Grover, for the last time, I am not shaving my head in protest of animal cruelty!"

Grover put a hand on his chest and threw his head back, sighing dramatically, "Fine, your loss, then!"

We both chuckled as I ran a hand through my hair. I still felt horrible about the spat with my mom, but fortunately, Grover had a way of kicking my sad thoughts to the curb. We were currently in math class, but no one was paying attention because they were fixing to call us down to board the buses. We were going on a field trip today, the whole grade, to some fancy museum an hour away.

Field trips have never been my forte. Everywhere I go something happens. But I swear I never mean to.

Like last year, at some Military school in Michigan, I didn't know that that revolutionary war canon still actually worked. And I swear on my mother that I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course I was expelled anyway.

And the year before that (in a boarding school all the way in North Carolina!) some slippery shoes and flailing hands accidentally led to me pressing an off-limits button, and my whole class took an unexpected dive with the hammerhead sharks. In my defense though, who leaves a big red button within reaching-point of a 14-year-old?

And before that— Nevermind. Point is, not my fault.

This time, I was determined to be good. This time, I wasn't even going to be a blip on Mrs. Dodds' radar.

Suddenly, the cracked voice of the schools front-desk secretary filled the air over the "announcement"— whatever its called.

"Will all Sophomores going on the official Yancy field trip make their way to the parking lot now. Thank You," I shouldered my backpack and turned towards Grover, "I've got to use the bathroom, G-man. I'll catch up with you in a minute?"

Grover shrugged nonchalantly, "S'fine," he picked up his own bag and I heard the distinct clatter of metal against metal, "I'll go and wait for you."

I tried to reassure him, "It's just down the hall, G-man."

He tried to give me an easy smile, but his eyes flashed with worry, "I don't mind..."

it wasn't worth worrying about today so I just sighed and motioned him forward with my hand, "If you're sure. Come on."

Grover does stuff like this all the time. Always going to lengths to walk me to my classes or escort me home and stuff like that. The logical part of me is saying that he has a crush on me, or that he doesn't want to be caught alone in the halls by the notorious school bully, Nacy Bobofit.

But the other part is saying that there's something more to it. something I'm missing. I tried to shrug the feeling off. For now.

We had reached the bathrooms and I was met by a fading pink door with chipped paint. The odor from the stalls already leaking through the door. I made a face and turned to Grover, "I'll just be a second G-man."

I heard a muffled ok as the door slammed shut.

After quickly using the bathroom I was looking at myself in the mirror. Conceited, I know. My hair stopped just below my shoulders in messy curls, tumbling over each other in a mess that I had never been ever able to quite tame. My skin was a dark tan, like, California girl tan. Which was weird since I was living in New York and it was rarely ever warm. But it had always been like that. I quickly put the stopper in the drain and turned on the tap.

I dipped my hands in the sink and used the water to help slick back and rejuvinate my curls as much as I could (which wasn't a lot) as I pulled it into a sloppy bun. Some traitorous curls fell from the big mop of hair, framing my face. I left them, not caring enough to mess with it.

Then I just stared at the sink full of water. It had settled down and now resembled a very small pane of glass, the surface only bothered when my breath occasionally hit it.

after a moment I snapped out of whatever moment I was in. Ducking my head, I checked all of the stalls to make sure I was alone and then turned back to the sink. I made a flat palm and focused, slowly lifting my hand. Mimicking my hand's silent command, a shaky stream of water rose from the sink, defying gravity. Another movement of my hand and the line turned horizontal and floated around me. I was just standing there in the middle of the bathroom, moving the water around, perfectly calm until—

"Cia? Hurry up! The bus is gonna leave us!"

The water plopped! on the bathroom floor with a splash.

The bus ride had been lackluster thus far. I don't know what I had expected. Grover always passes out during car rides and had delivered this time in fine fashion. His head against the window, shivering against the cold metal, occasionally moaning 'food' almost incoherently.

I looked around the rest of the bus to find that it was split up in the same old cliques, as always. Everyone at this school (for stuck-up rich brats) had a group to call their own.

Except for me. I could still spot the occasional stares from people on the bus, trying to hide their whispers and sneers _pitifully_ behind their hands. I was still the loner girl with no money, always had been ever since I started this school. I had barely survived three months of sitting alone during classes, and at lunch, and pep rallies. You never realize how much you take having friends for granted until you don't have any.

And then Grover came. Maybe it was because he seemed like an easy target. I mean, he cries when he gets frustrated and had a leg condition, crippling him for life. Whatever the reason, we had become fast friends, and he might actually be my one saving grace here.

Other than Mr. Brunner.

You see, Mr. Brunner is my Latin teacher and he teaches the only class I'm actually pulling an A in. He has a scruffy brown beard and chocolate eyes. He has always seen the best in me and constantly reassures me that I'm his favorite student. He's also the only teacher that seems to realize what an intentional little troublemaker Nancy BoboFit is.

Speaking of Nancy, she hasn't stopped bugging me since we left the school. I felt something thump me in the back of the head and turned to see Nancy smirking at me, holding the remainder of her peanut butter and ketchup sandwich. _Gross_.

I saw her throw another chunk of her nasty sandwich at me and, thank god, I caught it. Nancy looked annoyed now, so imagine her anger when I caught the next bit of sandwich she threw at me.

and the next,

and the next.

Nancy looked outright furious. Downright _pissed_. And right as she stood up from her seat, no doubt hoping for a brawl, the bus skidded to a stop and she faces planted in the aisle.

 _I've never loved karma more._

"Come on," I shook Grover awake, "Lets hurry." I grabbed him by his hand and basically shoved him off the bus and towards Mr. Brunner, who had watched the whole thing with secret amusement.

I honestly regretted picking a spot right next to Mr.Brunner. I had been picked for at least 12 of his questions so far and we were only 30 minutes in.

It didn't help that Nancy was right behind me, constantly snickering at some lewd joke her friends kept making.

 _Keep your cool, keep your cool. One more fist fight and you're gone—_

Oh, forget it, "Will you just _shut up?!_ "

"Ms. Jackson."

Busted. I turned around slowly like a deer caught in headlights, "Yes, Mr. Brunner?"

"Would you like to share something with the class? Hm?" Mr. Brunner asked.

I could have been embarrassed. Maybe I should have been embarrassed. at least that would make more sense than the anger I felt at being called out. My face flushed bright red and I clenched my fist, "Well, now that you have so _kindly_ asked—"

But Grover grabbed my shoulder and the sake of his head was so small I could have missed it. Not Now, he was telling me. I sighed, my shoulders sagging, "No, Mr. Brunner. I don't."

Mr. Brunner looked between me and Grover in slight confusion before saying, "I see. Well, in that case, can you tell me what this statue is supposed to represent, Ms. Jackson?"

I grumbled in annoyance at Nancy's laughter before looking atbsaid statue. I almost sighed in relief when I recognized the statue.

"That Kronos, The King Titan, eating his kids," I stated clearly, Latin was the only class I actually studied for.

Mr. Brunner seemed to regard my confidence with a certain respect lingering in his chocolate eyes, "And why did he do that?"

"Well," I continued in an almost leisurely drawl, " Kronos was a paranoid old man. After he killed his father for power, he was given a prophecy that his children would do the same thing to him. In response, he ate all of his and Rhea's children. Except for Zeus, the youngest, who Rhea hid away."

At this point, I was smirking, feeling quite satisfied. But he wasn't done yet, " And what happened after that?"

This was just annoying now, "Rhea trained Zeus, and he forced his father to throw up the rest of his kids—"

"—ew—"

"—disgusting—"

"And together they fought to overthrow their father, causing an 11-year war, which they eventually won."

Mr. Brunner looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he announced, "That's lunch everybody. One hour."

Thank God. I'm starving.

I turned towards Grover when, "Stay back a moment, Cia." I held back a groan and patted a guilty looking Grover on the back, "Save me a spot, G."

I shuffled back to Mr. Brunner with my head down, "Yes Sir?"

Mr. Brunner looked at me with warm eyes, "One more question, Cia. If any, what lessons do these stories teach us?"

Mr. Brunner looked as if this was the most important question I would ever be asked.

I thought for a moment, then, "That power can ruin all relationships?"

Mr. Brunner looked intrigued, "Maybe not my traditional answer, but a respectable one none the less. You may go to lunch, Cia."

Grover looked very concentrated and appeared as if he was going to ask some deep question about life. so imagine my amusement when he simply asked me, "Do you want your apple?"

Basically shaking with laughter I said, "Sure, Grover." and tossed him the apple.

But just as Grover bit into the Granny Smith with what sounded like a satisfying _crunch_! Nancy Bobofit showed up, promptly dumping her lunch in his lap.

Anger shot through me and I stood up, going nose to nose with her and her ugly freckles. Startled, she took a couple steps back before composing herself and sneering, "What's the matter, Jackson? Upset because of your _boyfriend_ —"

I didn't miss the faint red splattered across Grover's cheeks, but I pretended I didn't hear the comment, "Just leave us alone, Nancy," and after a moment I swallowed my pride and muttered a, " _Please_."

Nancy and her friends had a field day with that. "— _Pleeeaase_ ,—" they dragged it out, sniggering to one another. " _Wow_ , Jackson," Nancy said smugly, "resorted to begging, have you?"

 _Adults don't have a clue. Communication does not always solve your problems._

By now I was beyond embarrassed and could only focus on their laughter that seemed to come from every direction, echoing tauntingly around me. I was getting angrier by the second, and that's when I noticed the big fountain right beside us.

But you've got to believe me. I didn't mean to use _it_ to drag her into the fountain. _It_ ; _The_ power, _my_ power, to control water. Like earlier, in the school. I can't remember when I discovered them, or when I learned how to semi-control them. But I have them and they've only gotten stronger the older I've gotten. I could hear kids in the crowd whispering, totally astonished.

"—Did you see?—"

"—The water, it—"

"—I swear, it grabbed her—"

"—pulled her in—"

 _No_. I thought, horrified. _Nonono_. _this can't happen! They can't know! they can't find out!_

And this is when Mrs. Dodds swooped in like a mother hen (she had _immediately_ adored Nancy) continuously reassuring Nancy that I would buy her a new outfit.

Then she turned to me and she had this _look_ in her eyes as if she had finally found a missing piece to a puzzle.

"Jackson," she hissed, "Come with me, will you dearie?" It wasn't a question.

Then, surprisingly, Grover ran in front of me, blubbering about how it was _him_.

 _He_ had pushed Nancy.

It was so sweet. "It's OK, Grover—" I tried to reassure him, but a flash right by Mrs. Dodds caught the attention of my ADHD brain. I turned towards her—

Only to find her already at the top of the museum steps. _What_? I tried to push my frazzled questions away, For the moment, as I jogged up the stairs to catch up with her. We walked briskly through the museum, but she passed right by the Gift Shop. I tried to tell her, " Uh, Mrs. Dodds—"

" _Hush_ , Dearie." _Yes, Ma'am._

She finally stopped in what appeared to be part of the museum dedicated to ancient Greece. She whirled around so fast and I stumbled back blindly.

"Where is it!?" She spat, furious. Her back was slightly hunched and she looked over all disheveled and scary.

But the only response my mind deemed appropriate to utter was, "You mean the gift shop, Ma'am?"

Mrs. Dodds shrieked and suddenly started deforming. She shrunk. Her usual leather jacket slithered around to her back, where it produced terrifying black leather wings. Her eyes went from scary to literally _on fire._ All the pits of hell seemed to burn alive in her sockets. Teeth stretched and sharpened to fanged canines. She shrieked at me and got closer.

" _Thief_!" she growled, "Thief! tell me where it _spawn_ , and your death will be less painful. If _not_. . ." she trailed off threateningly.

We were circling each other now, and I was sure I would meet my demise in a stuffy museum.

But I found myself still trying to stall, "What? Steal? I might be a delinquent, lady, but not a thief, " i paused for a moment, " _Well_ —"

Mrs. Dodds was done. " _Enough_ ," she howled, "To the field of Punishments you'll go, Sea Spawn!"

My mind was in overdrive trying to analyze her words. _Sea Spawn? Does she know? It cant be a coincidence, can it?_

But now Mrs. Dodds (i highly doubt that was her real name) was lunging, clawed hands extended as she leaped in mid-air towards me. Instincts took over, and I threw myself to the floor. she barely missed me.

Then the doors to the hall were shoved open, and Mr. Brunner rolled in urgently. _Thank God_! Maybe he has a gun permit or something. _Wait. can a gun even kill this thing?_

My thoughts were interrupted as Mr. Brunner threw me something. _Yes_! I thought, _a defense! A weapon! A—_

 _bedazzled hair clip?_

 _What the heck was I supposed to do with—_ and suddenly the clip was a shiny, three-foot bronze sword. I didn't have time to contemplate because Mrs. Dodds had recovered and was attacking again. I did the first thing I could think of: I swung the sword (with precision I didn't know I possessed). She didn't know either, apparently, because she was too shocked to dodge. The sword sliced through her and then she was a pile of gold dust, blowing away with the nonexistent wind. a _h_ _iss_! filled the air as the dust disappeared altogether.

My hand was shaking and I almost dropped the sword, catching it at the last second. My mind was cluttered and frazzled, "Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god!" I clutched my head with my spare hand. It was all so surreal, here I was after killing some _monster_ , all alone in a museum room— wait. I'm not alone.

"Mr. Brunner," I whispered. My voice got louder, "Mr. Brunner! _Oh my God_ ," I turned around to face him—

But he wasn't there.

my sword clattered to the ground with a resounding _Clang_!


End file.
